


Thought You Said You Loved Me

by drpepper23



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Enabling, M/M, Obsessive Behavior, Possessive Behavior, Stalking, unprovoked violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-31
Updated: 2014-08-31
Packaged: 2018-02-15 15:08:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2233548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drpepper23/pseuds/drpepper23
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s over, yet Mickey can’t seem to accept that, especially not with all the mix signals Ian keeps sending his way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thought You Said You Loved Me

**Author's Note:**

> This story is dark. I wanted to explore this issue from two very different viewpoints. So while this and, You Can’t Fake That, are different and set in two totally different verses, some elements are the same. Please read with caution, because there are plenty of trigging elements about this story. There’s stalking, possessiveness, obsession, unprovoked violence, and a lot of enabling.
> 
> I know that Mickey and Ian have both portrayed some of these things in very small amounts, but never to this extent. I kind of took these small personality traits and multiplied them by a hundred. So please read with caution.

Mickey walked through the restaurant and quickly found the table he was looking for. “Mind if I join you?” Ian looked up, and Mickey saw his whole face crumble. 

Something sharp and pointy stabbed at his chest, making him run a thumb across his lips to distract from the pain. He guessed he should be used to that it by now, Ian’s stare of hate, but something inside him still died a little every time he saw it. 

Ian sat back in his chair, arms folded over his chest. “What the fuck you doing here, Mickey?” 

Mickey ignored the knives goring through his heart as he stared at the pair in front of him. Ian and his newest boyfriend. Fucker had no idea what he he’d just walked into, though he was sure Ian had tried to warn him. 

Mickey slid into the booth, bodily knocking Ian’s boyfriend into the corner. “I’m eating.” He picked up a menu and pretended to peruse his options. 

Ian snatched the menu from him, his eyes flashing red. “Mickey, what the fuck?”

Mickey shrugged and picked it back up. “Wanted to sit down.”

The boyfriend made a move toward him and Mickey slammed his head down hard on the table. By now the other dinners were looking, and Mickey knew he didn’t have much time before being kicked out.

Ian gritted his teeth. “Let him go, Mickey.” He released the hold on the boyfriend’s head and the other man pushed him off with a shrug. 

Ian closed his eyes and seemed to be counting to ten. “What do you want, Mickey?”

Mickey’s eyes bore into Ian’s, looking for some hint that the man he loved and had once shared a life with was still there. “Come home.”

Ian’s face softened just a little and Mickey held his breath waiting for the other man to speak. “Not going to happen.” He squared his shoulders, and then looked at his boyfriend, motioning for the other man to stand. “Come on, Larry, we’re leaving.”

Mickey stepped back a few feet and furrowed his brows. “I thought his name was Fred.”

Ian sighed deeply, his eyes saying he’d heard it all before. “No the fuck you didn’t, Mickey. Just stop.”  
Mickey stood, he and Ian locked in a heated glaze, when the boyfriend’s face suddenly floated into view. Red faced and angry, the man took a step his way. “You should probably just go. All you Milkoviches think you’re above the law. Think just because you have the money you can do whatever you want.” 

Mickey laughed out loud and turned to Ian whose shoulders had sunk, because he knew exactly how bad, Fred, Jim, Larry, whatever the fuck his name was, had fucked up.

The other man seemed oblivious, as he stood in front of Mickey, fist balled, and chest heaving from his anger. He took a step closer and Mickey could see a couple of waiters headed their way. 

They’d probably already called the police and he knew he needed to go. Still, he wanted to make his point. He grabbed the other man by his shirt and pulled him close. “Let’s see what you have to say after tomorrow, dumbass.” 

Ian stopped him before he could leave, his voice pleading and his eyes begging. “I won’t forgive you, Mick. If you do this, I swear to God, I won’t forgive you.”

Mickey thought about the possibility or not having Ian in his life anymore, of Ian shutting him out forever, and shook his head. No way would his redhead do that over some jerk-off he’d only know for three months. Mickey ran a tongue across his bottom lip. “Yeah, alright, tough guy.”  
He stole a roll off the table, looked Ian dead in the eye as he bit into it, and then strolled out the restaurant.

#

It was six that next evening when Ian burst through the doors of his office. Mickey stood up, completely ignoring the rage in the other man’s eyes, and the heavy painting coming from his chest. “What brings you-” He didn’t get a chance to finish the sentence before Ian attacked, knocking him over, and pinning him to the floor. 

Ian straddled his hips, his flushed, angry face, looming over Mickey’s. “WHY, MICKEY? JUST TELL ME WHY?” Mickey assumed he’d heard about the merger.

Mickey’s response was to grab Ian by the back of the head and try to bring their lips together for a kiss. Ian slapped his hands away. “How could you, Mick? How could you do that? You destroyed him.”

Ian was still leaning over him, still breathing hard, still looking Mickey dead in the eye, and Mickey couldn’t help it, he felt his nature rise. He reached between him, to feel that Ian was just excited as he was. 

His face become soft and his voice held all the emotion that had previously been in his chest. “Ian, please. Just one more time, please. Just love-” ‘Fuck it,’ Mickey thought. He smashed their mouths together and felt everything in him sing when Ian responded by tearing his clothes off.

Ian buried his head in the corner of Mickey’s neck. “Fuck, Mick.” He breathed out, as he kissed Mickey’s shoulders, cheeks, and eyelids. “The fuck do you do to me, huh?”

Mickey held on tight, kissing every exposed piece of skin he could find, his senses in complete overdrive. He couldn’t stop the words coming out of his mouth, even if he wanted to. “Ian come home. Please, just come home,” he begged over and over again, as the other man plunged into him repeatedly. 

It was over to soon as both had tumbled over the edge in a matter of minutes. Mickey wiped the sweat from his face and leaned over to get one more kiss in. Ian didn’t return the gesture.

Instead he angrily jerked his clothes on, his eyes refusing to meet Mickey’s. “You have to stop, Mickey. Take, back the merger. It’s not too late. The papers haven’t even been signed yet.”

Mickey felt his stomach turn to acid, as something bitter flowed across his mouth. He could never deny Ian anything, ever, but this was fucking business, and the last thing he needed was to come off looking soft. He couldn’t back out now, even if he wanted to. Still the words that came out of his mouth portrayed every emotion he felt. 

He looked at Ian, his face as honest and open as he could make it. “Then you’ll come home? If I kill the merger, they'll come back.”

Ian shook his head as he turned it to the side, but Mickey could still see the water forming in the other man’s eyes. 

He put his fingers to his mouth and felt where Ian’s lips had just touched his. Something inside him seemed to break, as he looked on the floor where they’d just made love. His voice came out cracked and splintered, which was perfect since that was exactly how he felt at the moment. “What was this then?” He asked, the feel on Ian still all over him.

Ian’s whole stance changed to one of anger, his body rocking from the effort. “Not doing this with you, Mick.” He pulled his shirt over his head, his eyes now two balls of fire. “Stop the fucking merger!” 

#

It wasn’t really a choice. Mickey didn’t even have to think hard about it. He stopped the merger. What else could he do? He only had a small part of Ian in his life now, and wasn’t willing to lost that one last connection. 

It was two that morning when his phone rung.  
“Ian?” he asked, as he stuck the phone to his ear.

Ian blew out a breath that floated across the phone lines. “Hey, Mick.”

Mickey rubbed his eyes. “He sleep?”

He could almost see the redhead nodding on the other end. “You scared the shit out of him, you know?”

Mickey allowed himself a slight smirk, as Ian continued talking. “Thank you, for not going through with it, the merger. I know what that must have caused you.” 

Ian really had no idea, but instead of telling him that, Mickey just grunted, to acknowledge that the other man had spoken. 

Ian chuckled low and Mickey knew he was in a good mood. “Finally got promoted at work. Five fucking years, it’s about time, yeah?” 

Mickey already knew that. He secretly did business with Ian’s company. Was secretly a major shareholder, and had threatened to pull rank and fire everyone involved, if Ian Gallagher didn’t start getting the respect he deserved. 

He walked to the kitchen, pulling out a bottle of wine. “Wanna toast?” he asked, knowing that’s exactly what the redhead wanted to do.

Ian laughed and Mickey could practically see the glint in his eyes. “Yeah, got my glass right here.” 

Mickey popped the cork on a bottle of red and then clicked it against the phone, hearing Ian do the same. “Congratulation, Ian. You deserve it. You deserved it five fucking years ago, if you ask me.”

Suddenly the line went quiet, and Mickey knew he’d fucked up. For a moment he’d forgotten how well Ian knew him. Shit. Fuck. Who knew what this latest fuck-up would cause him. 

Ian’s voice held no room for bullshit and Mickey knew there was no need trying to lie. “Mickey, what did you do?”

Mickey immediately went on the defense. Right or wrong, he wasn’t going to catch shit for making sure Ian was treated right. “Fuck you, Ian. You been working there five fucking years. Nothing happened that wasn’t supposed to.”

Ian dropped the phone for a second, and went he came back on the line, his voice was resigned, yet pleading. “I should have fucking known. Come on, Mick. Can’t I just have this one fucking thing without you fucking interfering? One thing, Mickey. Just one fucking thing.” 

Mickey thought about it all of three seconds before he answered. “No, Ian you can’t. And I’m not going to apologize for making sure that you’re alright. So get used to it.” He resisted the urge to ask why he would even want him to. What was so wrong with having somebody looking out for you, making sure you were okay? Mickey could find no fault in his behavior. 

He heard a loud roar over the phone before the line went dead completely. He stared at it for a second then shrugged and drank down more wine. 

#

Mickey downed the last of his beer. Three fucking days. It had been three fucking days since anyone had seen or heard from Ian, and Mickey’s whole world had shifted out of focus. He’d give anything to see that red hair and those green eyes again. 

He tossed his beer in the trash and briefly wondered if he was the reason for the other man’s departure.

Larry had come to his office shouting, Fiona came crying, and Lip hadn’t stop threatening him since he’d first found out Ian was gone. Tired of dealing with everybody’s bullshit, Mickey packed a bag, left strict instructions with his company heads, and headed for the airport. 

#

It took two weeks before he tracked Ian to a beach in Florida. Mickey watched from a distance, as Ian he sat on a towel soaking up the afternoon sun. 

Ian didn’t even look surprised to see him. If anything, he looked resigned. “Hey, Mickey,” he said, his eyes falling to the ground. 

Mickey took in Ian’s pale skin, against the smoldering heat, and rubbed some sunblock onto his hands. “Turn over. Fucking sun’ll eat your ass alive.” 

Ian stared at him hard, before sighing, and rolling onto his stomach. Mickey started on his back. “I’m sorry, Ian.” He took a small breath to collect his thoughts. “I ain’t mean to drive you away like that. I just wanted to make sure you got all the things you wanted. I was so caught up in that, that I didn’t see the one thing you wanted the most, was me out of your life.” Mickey closed his eyes to stop the sting. “You can come home now, Ian. I won’t bother you no more. I promise.”

Ian turned back over, his weary eyes searching Mickey’s face. “I want you in my life, Mickey, but boundaries. We have to have boundaries, okay?” 

Mickey shook his head, the pain wrapping around his heart like a vice. “I can’t have you half way, Ian. From this point on it’s all or nothing. You chose.”

Ian ran a quick hand through his hair, his eye’s never leaving Mickey’s. “So let’s take this final weekend to say goodbye.” He stood and held out a hand and Mickey took it knowing this would probably be the last chance he had to make Ian love him again.

#

Mickey put the last of his clothes in his bag. He and Ian both had problems, and they had both had done things to hurt each other, but this pass weekend was the start of something new, because they’d talked about those problems. They’d worked though those issues, listed their grievances, and somehow found a common ground. 

Mickey walked up behind Ian, wrapping his hands around the other man’s waist. “What time is our flight?”

Ian went completely still and Mickey felt his heart cave into his chest, and just like that, he knew he’d do just about anything to stop the next words from coming outta the ginger’s mouth. “I’m going home to Larry, Mick. I’m taking a later flight.”

Mickey felt the ground crumble beneath his feet and had to sit down to keep from falling over completely. “Then what the fuck was this, Ian?” 

He felt the rage building like a thundercloud in his chest and willed himself to calm down because he’d never forgive himself if things suddenly came to blows. 

Ian stopped packing and turned all the way around. His eyes held sorrow, but his words broke Mickey’s heart. “This was goodbye, Mickey. I told you that from the beginning.” 

Mickey ran a trembling hand over his face, his whole body shaking with rage. “You do this and I’m gonna fucking kill that bitch. I’m gonna rip his fucking tongue outta his mouth and feed it to him for breakfast. Ian I swear to God, you do this, and he’s a fucking dead man.”

Ian closed his eyes, his voice pleading. “Mickey, please, don’t do this.”

Mickey felt something inside him break apart and shatter as he watched Ian’s shoulders slump in utter defeat. This was his doing. He’d stolen Ian’s light and nothing in the world could every make that okay. He’d hurt the one person who actually gave a fuck about him. The one person he loved more than anything else in this world and he just couldn’t handle that. 

He got up, grabbed his bag, and walked out the door. He didn’t speak to Ian, didn’t even glance his way, as he walked out of his life forever. 

He took a month long vacation to decompress. With Skype, email, and fax, he could practically run his business from anywhere in the world. 

He had to let Ian go, and it hurt like a motherfucker, because there was no one else in the world for him. No one else he wanted to spend his life with. But save for random hook-ups every now and then, he realized that’s exactly how he’d be spending the rest of his life. Alone. 

Finally home, rain made his hair slick and his clothes stick to him, as he put the key in his lock and walked inside. The sight in front of him made him stop dead in his tracks. 

There Ian sat, eyes bloodshot, face blotchy, and mouth hanging open, as he watched Mickey come inside. 

Before Mickey could say anything, the other man was in his arm, tears freely flowing down his face. “You’re alive.” He held Mickey’s face between his hands, planting kisses all over his face. “Where the fuck have you been, Mick. I didn’t know what had happen. No one would tell me nothing.”

Mickey clung to Ian in the most fucked-up fashion in the world, because they were fucked up, this whole situation was fucked up, and the fact that they still wanted each other, still clung to each other, was the most fucked-up part of all.  
“Was trying to learn how to let you go,” Mickey said, his own tears mixing with Ian’s.

Ian squeezed him even tighter. “Don’t ever fucking let me go. You hear me, Mick? Never. “

Mickey closed his eyes and kissed Ian under his neck. “What happen to Larry.”

Ian finally released him from his ironclad arms. “Couldn’t handle my reaction to you going missing.” 

Mickey looked around and marveled at all the Ian like things that were curiously back in his house. “You here to stay?” He tried not to get his hopes up, but he wanted Ian back so fucking bad, and it hurt so fucking much when the other man wasn’t near, and he really just need all of this to finally come to a end. 

A slow smile spread across Ian’s face. “If you’ll have me?”

Mickey laughed out his relief. “If I’ll fucking have-,” he brought their lips together and drowned in the passion that was Ian Gallagher.

He knew it was wrong, knew it was fucked-up beyond belief, but he simply didn’t give a fuck. He and Ian had always lived by their own rules and fuck anybody who didn’t get that, who didn’t get them. 

Some would say their relationship was unhealthy, possessive, and even obsessive, but what they didn’t know, was this shit was like life’s breath to them. They loved it, reveled it, tore each others clothes off and made fucking love in it, and fuck anybody who didn’t understand that, because Ian Gallagher had finally came back home and Mickey Milkovich could finally breath again.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope it was okay. My story, You Can’t Fake That, flips this around, and Ian is the one stalking and can’t let Mickey go.
> 
> Find me on tumblr at:http://drpepper23fan.tumblr.com/


End file.
